Same Road
by Another Writer Who Loves
Summary: Mary never entered her sons room that night Azazel came to the Winchester home. Her sons weren't raised as hunters and instead had a normal childhood. However the Winchester children were always meant to be hunters and the day Dean arrives after four years of no contact and offers to drive Sam to Stanford Sam is introduced to the world his brother has been a part of for four years.
1. Chapter 1

If there had been one thing that Sam Winchester knew he was always and would always be able to count on it was his older brother Dean.

Older by four years Dean Winchester was everything to Sam. He was Sam's source of comfort when their parents would fight, and they would fight more times than they were living together peacefully. He was Sam's main caretaker as they grew up because their father was most of the time absent and their mother too far into her depression from their father to at times even be able to leave the bed.

When Sam had been sent to the guidance counselor one time during high school for fighting the counselor had said that they were "Irredeemably and completely codependent on each other" and spent hours talking about how that wasn't a healthy relationship to have with his brother.

He was later placed on the warning list and on a probation of some sort as well as a week's long suspension for punching the counselor in the face for that remark. The Same counselor later said that Sam had anger problems that he needed to work out before they landed him in jail or worse one day.

He didn't care that it wasn't considered healthy. He didn't care that even at age thirteen he would crawl under Dean's covers in his bed when he heard their parents fighting again. All that mattered was Dean and his arms around him. He didn't care what anyone else said, he loved his brother and his brother loved him. Their parents were too busy with each other's problems to pay much attention to their sons either way.

The day before Dean left for college the two of them spent the entire day together. Their parents gave their congratulations, "First one in the family to go to college" they said over and over. Dad gave Dean the keys to his impala as a gift. It was the most attention they had given Dean in month's even years.

The morning Dean left he promised Sam that they would call and write to one another, Dean would drive back on weekends so that they could spend the time together.

They promised that they would keep in contact.

One month after Dean left he stopped answering the phone calls, he never visited again. The college sent a letter to let the parents know that their son had dropped out of school to their shock.

He sent one last letter wishing Sam well and luck. That he was quitting college and focusing on a different outlet and life.

That it would be better if they didn't contact one another for a while and considering Dean wasn't even sure where he would be at times Sam wouldn't be able to write or send any letters. He would call and write whenever he can however visits were out of the question for the time being.

Sam locked himself in his room that day and cried himself to sleep. It was the last time he cried and when he went out the next day to the stores he punched a guy twice his size out all because he had been looking at Sam funnily.

* * *

Sam threw himself into his studies. He joined clubs he never really had any interest in-because really, a chess club, what the hell. He joined the soccer team, debating for a moment to join the wrestling team instead to be able to punch and hurt people but he wasn't allowed because of his strike on his record after punching the school counselor. He even joined the newspaper and the theatre team if only to not have a single moment free.

The small amount of free time he did have he spent running through the neighborhood and when it became too cold for that he got a gym membership and focused on building his muscles.

His father had seemed ecstatic at the changes Sam made to his body. He had been slightly disappointed that Sam didn't join the football team however he nodded when he joined the gym. His father and Sam had a difficult relationship, his father never seemed to know what to do or how to connect with Sam the way he had managed with Dean. Instead he gave Sam money when he asked until he got a part time job at sixteen and drove him and picked him up from practices when Sam needed it.

At age sixteen Sam got his working papers, dropping the newspaper and theatre clubs to their disappointment and his own enjoyment, from his school and after his parents signed them he managed to get a job at the local library. Dad had talked slyly about Sam working at his mechanic shop as Dean had at sixteen however Sam was more than happy to work at the library shelving books and when there was nothing else to do be able to sit down and read to his heart's content.

When the time came for college applications Sam found himself staring at the college pamphlets that had been sent to his home as he sat on his bed. Using both hands he spread the pamphlets away from each other so that none of them were touching. Occasionally he picked one up and made to look through it before putting it back on his bed.

He needed to get away, that much he knew. Dad was talking about Sam going to work at his shop more and more each passing day while mom was talking about how Sam wouldn't be like Dean, who none of them had heard from in almost a year and a half; not that Sam was keeping track. Dad wanted a local college that would keep Sam close and for him to major in engineering to be able to properly take over his business. Mom didn't care about where the college was as long as he majored in something medical and became a doctor.

His parents fought about that too, about Sam's future and what he should do with his life. Most of those nights when the yelling would rise to his room and go into the night found Sam with his headphones in his ears as he listened to his Walkman with his pillow over his head and bitterly wishing that Dean was still here.

In the end he applied to several out of state colleges. Community colleges that wouldn't leave him too majorly in debt. He didn't know what he wanted to major in and he didn't know what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

He just knew that he had to get away.

So he applied to about ten colleges, each in a different state, and on a bit of a psychotic whim he paid the extra bit to send an application to Stanford in California.

A few months later when the acceptances and denials started to come in for the students Sam was telling himself that there never had been a chance for him to get into Stanford either way and he should focus on the community college that was in New York, plenty of space away and surrounded by a different life and different people.

When he came home to find an acceptance letter, not just an acceptance but a full blown scholarship and ride, to Stanford for the first time in his life he felt like he had choices and he could make anything happen.

He did go to his graduation, clad in the same red and brown colored robes as every other student. He was surprised to see his parents in the audience with all the other mothers, fathers, and relatives.

And if he had strained his ears in the hopes of picking up the familiar sound of an impalas roaring engine and to his disappointment never heard it, well, no one had to know.

* * *

A week before he was supposed to leave there was a fight because of that, he should have known that there would be a fight because simply why not?

The end result was no one was happy and Sam was only able to storm out of the house because he had to get work.

The quiet of the library soothed his nerves slightly however he found that even the sound of the chairs sliding against the floor made him jerk slightly. The old desire to get into a fight was slowly coursing through him and he was sure that he was mere moments away from snapping at the next person who dared to even look at him.

Someone tapped him on his shoulder. Rolling his eyes and taking a inwardly taking a deep breath he turned around to answer, or maybe snap at the person he wasn't sure what he was feeling at the moment, when he froze in place.

His brother Dean was standing in front of him with his hands in his pockets and a sheepish grin on his face.

Sam had already been winded up the entire time since leaving his home and he hadn't had any contact with his brother in over a year.

Those were his excuses as he brought his arm back and solidly punched Dean right in the jaw bringing him to the floor.

* * *

"I'm not sorry." Sam said as he threw a bag of ice at Dean who easily caught it and placed it against his face. The both of them were in a room in the back of the library where the staff was allowed and were thankfully the only ones in the room.

Dean was smirking and there was an odd look of pride in his eyes as he shifted his hand and pressed the ice closer to him. "I know." he said. He grinned suddenly. "You've gotten stronger on me Sammy. And taller." he added eyeing his brother up and down. He stood and ruffled Sams hair like he did when they were younger. "Taller than me even."

Sam batted Dean's hand away and stepped to the side to get away from his brother, fighting the feeling of warmth that was spreading through his body at his brothers words. "Well growing taller happens in four years." he snapped. "And don't call me Sammy."

Dean obtained a pained look on his face. "I know that I haven't been here for you Sam, trust me I know, and I'm sorry."

Sam rolled his eyes as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "What are you doing here?"

"Well college is starting soon and I wanted to see you before that." Dean said leaning on the balls of his feet. "Are you going to college though?"

"Of course I am." Sam snapped. He lifted his head upwards, "In fact, I got a full ride to Stanford."

"Damn!" Dean exclaimed. Before Sam could stop him he strode forward and enveloped his brother in a hug. "That's amazing Sam! I'm proud of you."

For a moment Sam wanted to relax against his brothers arms. He carried the familiar scent that he had never been able to replicate or name and it smelled completely of comfort, his childhood, safety, warmth, love, and most importantly was pure Dean.

On the other hand he and Dean hadn't had any contact in over a year, he hadn't even seen him since four years ago when he left for college and suddenly left everything.

Including Sam.

Using both hands he pushed Dean off of him and took a few steps back. He ignored the pang in his heart at Deans wounded look that lasted for a moment before it faded.

Dean sighed. "Sammy, Sam." he quickly corrected himself when Sam threw him a warning look. "I'm sorry, I really am. I never wanted to hurt you."

"Then why did you leave?" Sam asked, his voice wavering slightly. "You practically fell off the planet, we, I, only got messages from you every month sometimes three or four and then suddenly it stopped. I thought…" he swallowed the lump in his throat as he managed to get out quietly "I thought something had happened to you."

Dean let out a breath. "There is business that I need to take care of, and I still do." He looked up at his brother and smiled sadly. I was just trying to…I'm sorry." he said finally seeming lost for words. "I'm making excuses, I know."

"Where were you?" Sam asked.

Dean lifted his hands. "Everywhere, all over the U.S. My…job takes me everywhere and anywhere I need to be."

"And what exactly is your job?" Sam demanded.

His brother grinned. "That's a story for another day, little brother."

Sam stared at his brother for a moment before he shook his head. "You have and haven't changed."

"How so?"

"Well you're still an asshole." Sam said. "But you never used to keep anything from me."

Dean obtained that pained look again. "I'll tell you, just not now."

Sam sighed and looked at the clock, it was a few minutes before he was done for the day, and took his bag out of the cubicle. "Whatever man."

"I can give you a ride if you want." Dean said eagerly following his brother out of the library.

Before Sam could say no his eyes caught onto the impala sitting the parking lot of the library. His mouth went dry at the sight of the familiar car that brought back all the time Dean drove him in it since he got his driver's license. The number of times they would leave in the morning and not return until late at night, those times when they both cut school, or simply just leaving into a different town or sometimes even a different state completely just because neither of them could handle the suffocating nature in their house anymore. Dean had promised to start teaching Sam how to drive the moment he got his permit.

He had gotten his permit at sixteen and by that time Dean had been gone for two years. His dad had taught him to drive and a year later he did get his license.

"I wasn't the only one that missed you." Dean said coming up behind him. "She missed you too."

"Well, I missed her." Sam said breaking out of his trance. He bit his lip and fidgeted slightly before he conceded defeat and crossed to the car. His hand trailed along the hood of the car until he reached the door and opened it.

"Want to drive?" Dean asked holding out the keys, his eyes looking eager.

Sam shook his head as he slid into the passenger seat. Even the car smelled the same, oil and gas and the scent of Dean everywhere. Dean came to his side and took his seat in front of the wheel.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked. He turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to the life. Sam could feel the vibrations of the car through his body and he swore that the rumblings of the engine was drumming through his veins. He couldn't keep the smile off of his face.

"Take us to the hill." Sam said. Dean answered his smile with a smile of his own and immediately backed the car out of the parking lot.

* * *

A hill was a field overlooking Lawrence. It was a half hour drive if there was no traffic however with Deans driving they had always been able to get there in ten minutes. Luckily it was deserted at this time and Dean managed to park the impala under the shade of the lone tree there. Wordlessly they slid out of the car. Sam went to the front and sat on the still warm hood while Dean went to the trunk. he walked back to the front and handed Sam a cold can of soda.

"I keep a cooler in the back." Dean answered Sam's questioning look. He had his own can which he opened and drained half of.

Sam shook his head and opened his can. There was a light breeze, not enough to make them cold but enough to keep the heat of the sun off of them. His brother sat beside him on the hood, his presence warm and familiar. Shoulder to shoulder they sat and watched the people of Lawrence continue their lives.

For a moment Sam allowed himself to be deluded. His brother was next to him again, the last four years hadn't happened, his brother was here and everything was alright.

Everything was not alright.

"You could have called." Sam said fixing his gaze on his can. "I waited for you to call, the very least."

Dean placed his hand on Sam's shoulder. "I'm sorry Sam, I really am."

Sam glanced up at him from the corner of his eye. "I'm mad at you." he said with no real venom.

"I know."

"You're an asshole."

"I know."

"I hate you."

"I know."

Sam bit his lip and leaned his head on his brothers shoulder, the motion hurting his neck slightly; he hadn't always had to bend that much to get to his brothers shoulder. Dean placed his arm around his brother.

"I missed you."

"I know."

* * *

Neither his mother nor father were really happy to see Dean however they couldn't not let him stay in his old room for the time being. When the week was almost done and Sam needed to leave for Stanford Dean enthusiastically offered to drive him so that he could save money on the train fare.

In truth the both of them were looking forward to getting away from their parents as soon as possible.

Within hours the two brothers found themselves in the impala once more with Sam's luggage in the trunk, strangely enough Dean had insisted on being the one to place the luggage in the trunk, and they were on their way to California.

They debated to stop at a motel after nearly a day of driving however they simply opted to stop at a rest area and sleep in the impala. Sam fell asleep easily in the comfort of the car, never knowing half of the night Dean didn't sleep and instead kept watch over his brother.

When Sam saw the sign welcoming them into California he felt a mixture of excitement and despair. Excitement at finally, finally, getting away from their parents, starting college, and about to create a new life. Despair at the thought that Dean is going to drop him off, leave, and maybe they'll never see each other again.

They entered a town, named Jericho he noted from a sign, and that was when he noticed that Dean was going through the town. He didn't say anything as Dean speeded up again.

However when they stopped in front of a bridge crawling with police cars and officers Sam glanced at his brother and was taken aback at the intensity of his gaze.

"Dean?" Sam asked. "What…what are we…"

"Just…stay in the car for a few minutes Sam." Dean answered as he leaned over and dug into the glove compartment for a moment before pulling out something leather bound and quickly closing it before Sam could see inside. Before Sam could say anything else Dean got out of the car and strode to the police officer with a purpose in his step.

Sam leaned back into his seat with a confused look on his face. His eyes widened when he saw Dean flash something at the police officer which made the officer nod and lead Dean ahead to where most of the crowd was.

Dean returned in a few minutes looking grim. He slid into the car once more, shushing his brother when Sam made a move to ask questions, before putting the car in reverse and getting out of the scene.

Sam snatched the leather bound object from his brother's pocket, ignoring Dean's noise of displeasure, and opened it.

"_United States Marshal" _read the badge. Sam looked at his brother.

"You're a Fed now?" he asked waving the badge. Dean snatched it back and stuffed it back in his pocket without looking at his brother. "Is this your job now? You're government?"

Dean hesitated before he said "Not really."

"Dean, what the hell is going on?" Sam demanded. His eyes went to the glove department and he immediately opened it. When Dean tried to close it Sam pushed his brother's hands out of the way and dug his own hand into the compartment. He froze when he felt something metallic and cool touch his fingers. He pulled out the item and stared at it in stunned silence.

He was holding a gun.

"Holy shit." Sam said before he threw the gun back into the compartment. A credit card fell to the floor.

"For the love of god Sam." Dean said through clenched teeth trying to stop his brother while watching the road he was driving.

Sam pushed his brother away and grabbed the credit card off the floor and flipped it over to read the name.

He felt the blood leave his face and his stomach fell to his feet.

The name on the credit card was Hector Aframian.

"Dean stop the car." Sam said, he was amazed that his voice wasn't shaking.

"Sam. I can explain." Dean said steadily.

"Dean stop the fucking car!" Sam exclaimed. Dean shot him a concerned look however he obeyed and slowed the car to a stop at the side of the road. Sam fought with the door for a moment before he managed to get it open and he practically jumped from the car and a few feet away. He breathed heavily, ran his fingers through his hair, and leaned his hands on his knees.

"Sam, I can explain." Dean said coming from around the other side towards his brother.

Sam held up one hand towards his brother. "Stay. Away. From. Me."

Dean stopped in place and lifted his hands up so that his palms were facing Sam.

"Sam, just listen to me." Dean said.

"Fake credit card, I'm sure a fake U. S. federal Marshall badge." Sam said breathing heavily. "A fucking gun. Dean," he stepped towards his brother. "What the fuck have you been doing these last four years?"

"Sam calm down." Dean said calmly. "Breathe. You're going to give yourself a panic attack."

"You're doing something with drugs. You're dealing drugs." Sam said with certainty. "There's no other explanation."

"I'm not doing anything with drugs." Dean said firmly. He reached towards his brother. "Sam, take a deep breath."

Sam obeyed his brother and inhaled deeply and sharply. His knees shook and they bucked slightly. He placed his hands on his knees in an attempt to steady himself as he continued to breathe deeply.

Dean's hand came to his shaking back and rubbed him soothingly. Sam closed his eyes and focused on maintaining his breathe and the warmth of Dean's hand.

He looked up at his brother through his bangs, the brother he hasn't seen in four years and who was now staring at him with pity and sorrow in his eyes.

"Start explaining." Sam demanded. "And don't leave a single fucking thing out."

**I do not own Supernatural.**


	2. Chapter 2

Sam was prepared to hear anything. Dealing drugs, infiltrating the government, terrorism, he was ready to hear and was prepared for anything he thought that Dean would tell him.

He was not prepared for what Dean actually told him.

They were in the town diner, secluded in a booth away from the other patrons with cups of coffee and still full dishes in front of them.

"What?" Sam asked breaking their nearly five minute of complete silence.

Dean had his hands around his cup of coffee and was staring into its depths as if debating if he could drown himself in it.

"You heard me Sam." he said gruffly.

Sam didn't say anything as he simply stared at his brother and wondering how he could test for the presence of drugs in Deans system.

"You're…a hunter." Sam said slowly, repeating Dean's words through his head again and again.

"Yes." Dean said taking a sip from his coffee and making a slight face at the taste and reaching for the sugar.

"But you don't hunt animals or people." Sam continued.

"Sometimes people, but only those that deserve it." Dean confirmed.

"And the things, and people, that you hunt." Sam said bit by bit. "They…aren't…right?"

"Not human." Dean corrected. "Maybe they once were but no more."

Sam remained frozen in his seat for a moment before he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his right hand. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his mind and put everything into place.

"So four years ago. You were captured by…what again?" Sam asked.

"A djinn." Dean said.

"A djinn." Sam repeated. "And that was a…what exactly?"

Dean rummaged through the bag at his side for a moment before he pulled out a leather bound book which he handed to his brother. Sam took the book with one hand, feeling its weight despite only half of it seemingly filled out. There were papers folded into between the pages that stuck out and when he opened it he saw a picture of him and Dean from five years ago on the inside of the cover.

"Everything I learned so far, I put there." Dean said motioning with his head towards the book. "It's a good way to keep record and remember everything you need to know."

Sam slowly turned each page, examining handmade drawings, incantations, something that looked suspiciously like a blood spatter, and was that Latin?

He glanced up at his brother. "And a djinn?"

Dean reached over and took a handful of pages before turning them to a certain part of the book and sat back.

"_Djinn are humanoid creatures with tattooed skin that prefer to live in large ruins with a lot of places to hide." _Sam read to himself, his eyes scanning over his brother's familiar handwriting. _"They feed on human blood and can poison their victims with a touch." _Sam felt his body give a shake once after reading that before he took a deep breath and continued. _"Their poison causes reality altering hallucinations and can be used either to kill their victims quickly or to leave victims in a coma like state while the djinn feeds on their blood over a long period of time."_

"And this thing caught you?" Sam asked his voice rising slightly in almost hysteria.

"Sam. I'm here. I'm okay." Dean said. He placed his hand over his brothers in an attempt to comfort him.

Sam shook his head and continued reading. _"The way to kill djinn, silver and lambs blood. Dip the silver knife in lamb blood."_

He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, his fingers stroking the writing in the book.

"So this thing caught you." Sam said. "What happened to you?"

"Well, I'm going to class and I was in town so I decided to take a shortcut down an alleyway. Don't give me that look." Dean added seeing Sam's disapproving face. "Next thing I know I'm facing this guy with glowing eyes and tats. All of a sudden I'm in a perfect world." He gave a shrug as he picked up a French fry from his plate and slowly started eating. "But it didn't feel right, you know? There was something off about it, something so wrong that nothing felt right anymore and I get the idea to kill myself."

Sam couldn't help the gasp that slid past his lips.

"Hey." Dean said softly. He smiled at his brother and placed his hand over Sam's again. "I'm here. I'm fine." He reminded Sam. He waited for Sam to nod before he continued. "So I kill myself and when I come to I'm hooked above a bucket filling with my own damn blood, two girls next to me going through the same thing. There was a guy already there and trying to attack the djinn. I managed to get free, guess the djinn didn't think he needed to make the rope too tight. The man had dropped his knife, the silver dipped in lamb blood, and I didn't even think twice about picking it up and stabbing the son of a bitch down."

"And the man, he was a hunter?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded. "He had heard of the disappearances happening in the area and came around to see what it was. After I helped him with the girls and getting rid of the djinn I demanded answers." Dean smiled lightly. "He didn't want to at first, told me to get on with my life and forget this ever happened. But I followed and bugged him until he broke and told me about the djinn." Dean grinned suddenly. "Then I demanded to know everything else there was. My blood, what was left any way, was pumping and I didn't know what but it felt good when I got rid of that djinn."

"Still don't know why, and the old man won't tell me, but he looked at me and decided to let me know." Dean said. "He took me to where he and his wife work together and I learned from them. The Harvelles, Bill and Ellen by the way, were hunters in their own right with a daughter, Jo, who they were training. They taught and trained me. I went with Bill on hunts and went solo a year and a half ago."

Sam was taking slow and measured breaths, in through his nose and out through his mouth, as he placed his hands around his own coffee cup and gripped it tightly. He lowered his head and closed his eyes as he tried to process everything he heard.

Dean was patiently waiting for Sam to straighten up and look at him again, he spent a few minutes eating his now cold food off of his dish.

Finally, Sam sat up again and looked at his brother who stared back at him quietly and calmly. Licking his lips he averted his gaze to the journal once more. Lifting one shaking hand he slowly went through the pages once more.

There were drawings of what looked like satanic symbols. Circles enclosed with pentagrams. Incantations, or were they, written in various languages however he recognized the main one being Latin from his brief Spanish classes back in high school. There were drawings of what he could only assume were the monsters.

His brother was insane, he decided. His brother was insane, those people either helped his insanity or weren't even real. The Harvelles might even be a part of a cult that dragged Dean to join them.

"You can't really expect me to believe this." Sam said looking up at his brother.

Dean was rummaging through his bag again and pulled out a folder which he handed to Sam who took it wordlessly.

"There's a reason I came through here." Dean said motioning with his head to around them. He obtained a pained look on his face for a moment. "I didn't want to drag you into this but I wanted you to know the truth, I don't want you thinking the worst of me Sammy. Mom and dad," he got a sour look on his face. "I don't really care. You're the one I trust and you're the one I want to know."

Sam didn't even register the use of the childhood nickname. He simply shook his head and opened the folder and stared at various printed out articles.

"_Centennial Highway Disappearance Andrew Carey MISSING" _it read and was dated a month back.

"They found his car but the guy had vanished, not a single trace of him left." Dean said motioning with his head towards the article in Sam's hand.

"Kidnapped, maybe?" Sam asked looking at him.

Dean shook his head and leaned across the table to pick up the other pages in the folder.

"Here's another one from 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, and ten more of them over the past twenty years." Dean said. "All men and they all disappeared on the same five mile stretch of road."

Sam looked at each page for a moment before he gathered them all and neatly placed them back into the folder gently. Dean took the folder and placed it back in his bag and leaned back, watching his brother quietly.

Sam closed the still open journal and tapped his fingers on top of it.

"So you go around, find weird things like kidnappings, and you…hunt?" he tried.

Dean surprisingly nodded. "If it's strange, unsolved, or people just don't understand how it happened the hunters go and investigate."

"And, why do you do it?" Sam asked.

"Because it's the right thing to do." Dean said simply. "Because there are too many threats out there and not nearly enough hunters. Because people don't know what they are getting into most of the time and have no idea what's going on around them. Because I am actually making a difference like this and not in an office or class somewhere."

"And what about money, security, and the future?" Sam asked. He eyed his still full plate of food for a moment before he shook his head, his stomach was still turning and he didn't think he could hold anything down just yet.

"That's where the credit cards things come in." Dean said sheepishly. "Scams and everything, a different hunter, his name is Singer, taught me how to do that. And I am thinking about the future, the future of everyone else."

Sam sighed as he leaned back in his seat tiredly. "I still don't believe you."

"I would be surprised if you did." Dean said dryly. "I wouldn't believe myself if I didn't have proof."

"And your pictures don't count as proof." Sam said. "You think something unnatural is happening here?"

Dean nodded. "I think a ghost."

"A ghost." Sam repeated. He rubbed his hand over his eyes and took a deep breath. "You want me to believe you and think the best of you, not believing that you're doing something satanic or part of a cult or something?"

Dean nodded once more.

"Then show me the ghost." Sam said.

Suddenly his brother grinned. "Be on your toes then. To the crime scene."

* * *

The crime scene turned out to be the bridge that they had stopped at earlier that day. They checked into the town's only motel to place Sam's luggage there and waited for nightfall. Sam read bits and pieces from Dean's journal to pass the time, only pausing to ask a question every now and then, although he didn't really pay much attention or put anything to memorization.

He wasn't sure why he was playing along, maybe it was just the hope that his brother was insane. Although he was more inclined to believe the decomposition of his brother's mental status than believe in monsters and creatures and ghosts.

When night finally came Sam and Dean got back into the impala and drove back to the bridge in silence. Sam fidgeted in his seat and picked at the sides of his nails while fighting the urge to bite his nails. It was a habit that he had barely been able to break back in high school.

Dean drove onto the deserted bridge and stopped the car in front of the police tap surrounding the opening. He turned the engine off and with a nod towards his brother the both of them got out of the car.

Sam looked around the empty area as Dean went to the trunk of the car and pulled out something. He watched his brother with slight interest as he placed his hands in his jackets pockets.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked eyeing the device in his brother's hand.

"EMF meter." Dean said lifting it slightly. "Reads electromagnetic frequencies."

At Sam's blank look Dean clarified, "It helps to find ghosts because of their electric signature."

"Ah." Sam said. He looked around the bridge again. "So, what are we looking for exactly?"

"Something out of the ordinary." Dean said his attention on the meter in his hand. He walked slowly around the area occasionally turning in a circle. The machine gave a steady beep every few seconds.

Sam felt his heart start to pound heavily in his chest and his body start to shake. "Dean, this isn't funny anymore."

Dean still had his attention on the meter. "Not trying to be funny Sammy."

Sam didn't even pay attention to the nickname. He shivered slightly as he felt the temperature start to drop slowly. "Dean, it's done. Stop this fucking game."

At that Dean did look up at his brother and looked almost hurt. "I'm not playing any game. This is real."

"The fuck it is." Sam said. His voice took a pleading tone. "Dean, seriously. You need help."

Dean straightened up and stared at his brother. Neither of them noticed how the temperature continued to drop steadily. "'I need help?'" he repeated. A scowl appeared on his face. "This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you or mom or dad. You wouldn't understand." He snapped the meter together and placed it in his pocket. "I know what I am doing and I'm doing the right thing. If you, or anyone else can't understand that, well then tough."

Sam felt anger course through him, warming him slightly, and he stood straighter. "So you think after four years of almost no contact and suddenly you come out of nowhere and give me this cock and bull story about ghosts and djinns and whatever else was fucking brainwashed into you and you think I should believe you like that?" he snapped his fingers together at the last word. "You're either insane or sick, either way you need help."

Dean let out a breath, frowning slightly when a cloud of air appeared in the cold weather, and scowled once more. "You don't want to listen, fine. Get in the car, we'll pick up your stuff, and I'll drop you off at Stanford."

"You are not turning me into the bad guy here." Sam snapped as he came forward and grabbed Dean's arm. "You can't expect me to believe this…insanity!"

Dean wretched his arm out of Sam's grip and walked to the railing of the bridge. He looked out to the darkness of the water below them and the dark sky above them as he seemed to contemplate his next words.

"Sam." he said carefully waiting for Sam's grunt to continue. "In the last four years, did anything ever happen to you? Something you didn't understand or couldn't explain?"

"Well let's see, there was a poltergeist in my room that mom had to banish and I'm pretty sure a vampire fed on me last Halloween." Sam said sarcasm lacing his words.

"I'm being serious." Dean said.

"Let's not forget the zombie that dad beheaded last Christmas." Sam continued fueled by his rising anger. Sam didn't notice the street lights above them start to flicker however Dean threw them a curious look. He then looked around and realized the temperature and how cold it had become.

"I mean seriously Dean!" Sam said as he started to pace up and down the deserted bridge. "You want to believe in superstitions and all that crap, fine! I still avoid cracks and don't look in broken mirrors, but you got to be able to distinguish between fiction and reality, man!"

"Sam." Dean said quietly. "Just tell me the truth, has anything ever happened to you that you couldn't explain?"

Sam sighed as he stopped in front of one of the street lights and leaned against it. "No." he said not looking at his brother. "Nothing ever happened that I couldn't explain."

The silence was thick and heavy between the two of them before Dean sighed and stretched his arms. "I'll finish driving you to college and come back here myself."

"Dean." Sam said softly, feeling pain and abandonment going through him for a reason he couldn't explain.

"I can't make you believe and I can't make a ghost appear." Dean continued. He took a deep breath and nudged a stone on the bridge to fall into the water with his foot.

"Dean."

"I don't blame you, just don't think I'm insane or doing something crazy." Dean said. "I'll try to keep in contact with you, maybe we'll meet up every now and then."

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed as he glanced around the bridge. He froze suddenly with a gasp caught in his throat.

Suddenly out of nowhere stood a woman wearing a tattered yellow dress, with a piece of a broken rope hanging from her bruised neck. Her curly brown hair stopped just barely from her waist and her pale skin was glowing in the moonlight of the night.

"Dean." Sam managed to almost whimper. Dean immediately stopped talking and whirled around to where the woman stood watching them. Sam was shaking and he could barely breathe as he heard his brother whisper "Jackpot."

The temperature plunged suddenly down again helping keep Sam in place, he could see his breath in the air. The woman eyes met his and he couldn't help his gasp. Her eyes were like pits of black, endless holes that were filled with pain and anger and for a moment Sam wasn't able to breathe. Then as suddenly as she appeared she disappeared.

Dean immediately ran forward to where she had been standing and looked around the area, the meter back in his hand and being waved around. Sam stood frozen in place as he tried to remember how to breathe properly.

"Where did she go?" he managed to almost whimper out, his heart was pounding in his chest and his hands, now that feeling started to spread along his body once more, were starting to shake.

Dean returned to his brother's side and reached out to start rubbing Sam's arms with his hands. "Don't know." he said. He caught Sam's gaze. "You alright?"

Before Sam could answer the impala that had been parked a few feet away roared to life. The brothers whirled towards the suddenly alive car.

"What the-?" Dean mumbled, confusion clear in his voice as the car's engine revved a few times.

"Who's driving your car?" Sam succeeded to ask. Without saying a word or looking at him Dean reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his keys, bouncing them slightly before placing them back in his pocket.

Suddenly the car roared and started forward, driving towards them. Dean grabbed his brother's arm and pulled until Sam was running along with his brother.

His heart pounding in his ears Sam could swear he felt the bumper of the car just lightly graze the back of his legs when Dean tugged him harshly once more, this time tightening his grip on Sam and taking the both of them over the railing, keeping the hand that launched them over the railing on the railing itself to keep themselves from falling into the river below. Sam grasped at his brother tightly as he gave low gasps. Above them the car to a stop and seemingly died as the engine stopped and even the lights went out.

The next few minutes were spend with Dean maneuvering them so that they were able to balance on the pipes on the side of the bridge. Sam was shaking badly however he wasn't able to bring himself to let go of his brother. Dean had one hand still on a different part of the railing and the other one grasping Sam's arm as hard as he was able to. Now that the adrenaline had faded slightly Sam could feel the pain from Dean's grip.

"You okay?" Dean asked looking his brother up and down.

Sam managed a shaky nod before he looked up at his brother and said through bloodless lips and in a rough voice "You've convinced me. What next?"

* * *

The next part, apparently, was checking on the car and making sure "That there wasn't an imprint or anything remaining of the ghost." as Dean said. After that he immediately drove back to the motel, glancing at Sam every few minutes to reassure himself that his brother was alright.

Sam sat in his seat quietly, thankfully the shaking stopped. He leaned against the door, his breath fogging the window. His eyes were wide and alert. Once they were in the motel Dean all but picked his brother up and dragged him to their room.

Once they were in their room Dean sat Sam at the edge of one of the beds and raised the heating of the radiator. The old radiator rattled however after a few seconds it came to life.

Sam blinked a few times as he flexed his fingers and cracked his neck as he moved it from side to side. Dean watched him carefully.

"So what next?" Sam repeated after swallowing the lump in his throat.

"First things first, I want to get some color back into you." Dean said. He came to his brother and rubbed his arms again. "You're paler than that ghost."

Sam pushed Dean's hands away. "What next?" he asked firmly.

"Research." Dean said. "We need to find out what kind of a ghost she is and that means figuring out her death and her life before. Then we need to find her body."

"And do what with it?"

"Cover it with salt and gas and set the bitch on fire." Dean said taking a seat next to Sam on the bed. "The body, or blood, bits of skin, something from the body, anchors the soul to earth and they won't pass on until we destroy it."

Sam nodded as he let out a deep breath. "Research. We're going to need a library then."

Dean checked his watch and grimaced. "Close to eleven. I don't fancy breaking into a library right now, wait until morning?" when Sam nodded Dean nodded as well and stood as he stretched. "I'm going to take a quick shower. We should also get a good night sleep, big day tomorrow."

Sam watched as his brother took his jacket off and placed it over a chair and doing the same to his pair of boots.

"Dean." Sam said quietly and suddenly. His brother looked up at him. "I'm sorry. For thinking…that you're crazy or something."

Dean smiled slightly. "Don't think I'm crazy anymore?"

"I know that you are bat shit insane." Sam said with a shaky smile. "But, I guess I am too if that would explain what I saw tonight."

His brother gave a brisk laugh as he came to Sam and hugged him tightly. Dean heaved a great breath and said quietly, "I didn't want you to get hurt, or scared."

"Scared? Definitely." Sam said bringing his own arms around his brother. "But also determined." At Deans questioning look Sam continued "This ghost has hurt people right? Well since apparently we're the only ones who know about this, we need to get rid of her."

Dean grinned and ruffled Sam's hair, ignoring Sam's whine. "Now you're getting it. That's my exact reason."

* * *

When morning came the brothers had a quick breakfast at the diner they were at yesterday before immediately heading to the library. The entire way Dean was telling Sam more information about ghosts and how to get rid of them.

Sam watched Dean type into the computer with a mournful and pitiful look on his face. Dean typed in "Female Murder Hitchhiking" into the search engine which gave no results. He replaced "hitchhiking" with "Centennial highway" and received the same results.

Sam gave an exaggerated sigh as he tried to nudge Dean from the front of the computer.

"Let me try." Sam said.

Dean smacked Sam's hand away from the mouse.

"I got this." Dean insisted.

"You got nothing." Sam countered all but pushing his brother from away the computer and taking a seat. "You said that angry spirits, ghosts that kill other people, are born out of violent deaths, right?"

"Yeah." Dean said nodding.

Sam remembered the rope still around the woman's neck. "Well, maybe it's not murder."

He deleted "murder" from the search engine and replaced it with "suicide" before clicking search. Immediately an article titled "Suicide on Centennial" dated from April 25, 1981 popped up. The brothers shared a look before Sam clicked on the article and quickly read through it.

"1981, Constance Welch." Sam said after he finished reading. "Twenty four years old and jumped off the bridge we were on last night and drowned in the river." He clicked on the picture of the woman and felt the air leave his lungs. It is the same woman from last night.

"Does it say why she did it?" Dean asked leaning closer.

"An hour before they found her she had called 911. Apparently her two little kids were in the bathtub and she left them alone for a minute." Sam said moving the cursor of the mouse along the words. "She came back and they weren't breathing, both of them died."

Dean raised his eyebrows as he gave a low whistle. Next to the article was a picture of her husband Joseph Welch who was doubled over in supposed grief with one hand covering his eyes and the other his mouth.

"'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it' said husband Joseph Welch." Sam said reading from the article.

Sam leaned back in his seat and rubbed his eyes. "So what now, expert hunting brother of mine?"

"Now." Dean said tapping the computer monitor that still showed the picture of Joseph Welch. "We talk to the husband and find out where dear Constance is buried."

**I do not own Supernatural.**

**To the reviewer who didn't want the hunts to be the same, I'm only keep a few of the more major hunts the same and changing others. That would be a bit boring if everything was the same. The Woman in White was kept because this was their getting together, both here and in canon. **


	3. Chapter 3

First thing Dean did was give Sam a cell phone, "In case we get separated and I need to call you, my numbers already programmed there.", which he spent a good half hour playing with.

The second thing that happened was that Dean got arrested.

They had to quickly go back to the motel room and pick up Sam's bag and Deans bag that contained his journal and papers. While Sam was getting everything that was left, his and Dean's things, his new cell phone rang.

"Hello?" he said into.

"Cops here, I'm about to get arrested. Take off." Dean said shortly and firmly.

Sam sputtered as he fought the urge to go to the window and look out. "What the hell do you mean arrested!?"

"Either the badge or the card, don't know." Dean said, from his voice and whatever Sam could hear it was obvious he was starting to walk away quickly.

"What the hell are you going to do?" Sam demanded. "What the hell should I do? Post bail?"

"Get out of the motel room, make sure they don't see you." Dean said. "The keys are with you." Sam spotted the impalas keys on the table, Dean had given them to him before he had come in and he quickly snatched them up. "Wait a bit then get the impala. Go to Joseph Welch, find a way to get him to talk and find out where Constance is buried. We'll meet up."

"I don't think that'll happen if you're getting arrested." Sam hissed lightly as he finally looked outside. The cops from yesterday were nearly on Dean.

"Not the first time, I'll get out." Dean said before Sam could say anything else he heard Dean say "Problem, officers?" before hanging up.

Cursing to himself Sam ran to the back of the room as he grabbed his and Deans bags and placed them on his shoulders, his eyes looking everywhere for a different exit. His eyes to the window in the bathroom and he gave a groan.

He hopped onto the toilet and reached up to open the window. Thanking whoever was listening for his height he easily opened it. He pushed the bags through first and hoisted himself upward. He slid slightly when he heard voices from outside and the door handle of the motel room moving as someone from outside tried to get in.

Gritting his teeth together and ignoring his pounding heart Sam pulled himself through the window with a lot of difficulty; being tall helps, having wide shoulders not so much. He managed to get through and immediately grabbed the bags as he jumped to his feet.

Thanking the fact that he liked to sneak out of his house during his senior year of high school and the little practice it gave him to be light on his feet, because he swore his mother had ultra-hearing or something, he quickly crossed over to the other side of the road and ran the small distance into town.

His brother was being arrested, most likely for either having lied on credit card information or that phony badge he had used, maybe both. He sighed and shook his head as he shifted the bags onto one shoulder and fingered the keys in his pocket with his free hand.

The library was close to the motel, if Dean was so sure that he could get out of being arrested he would want Sam to go and talk to Joseph. He could find out where the man lived from the phone books.

He gave another sigh and willed his heart to stop pounding in his chest as he thought over the past forty eight or so hours. He was helping his brother find and destroy a ghost. His brother was a hunter of all things evil. And Sam was sure that everything he had been through the past two days was destroying his health. He was only eighteen, that was too young to be getting a heart attack because of the riskiness of his brother.

Rolling his shoulders back and keeping an eye out for any more police officers Sam started towards the library.

* * *

The rush of driving the impala, the car that haunted his dreams since Dean left, was like a rush that he practically ran to and embraced. Feeling the steering wheel under his hands and the rumble of the engine from the driver's seat calmed his twitchy nerves, almost like the car was singing him a lullaby he had heard all his life.

He needed the calamity of the car severely at this moment because before he started to drive out of the parking lot of the motel where they had left her he had opened the trunk of the car.

And immediately wished that he hadn't.

There was a cover that resembled the floor of the trunk, just that it was too high, he slid his fingers underneath it and lifted it. Only to cause all his blood to be drained out of his body and his stomach drop to the floor.

Not just guns. Guns, knives, cases of what looked like water, and god knew what else. Different types of guns and knives and if he wasn't mistaken a grenade launcher and tasers. He had immediately pulled down the fake floor, slammed the trunk down, and got into the driver's seat towards Joseph Welch.

When he pulled up to the house where, according to the phone book in the library, Joseph Welch lived. He turned the engine off and simply sat in the car for a moment as he gathered his courage.

A line from his English class readings, Shakespeare it seemed gave every English teacher a boner, came into his mind at that moment.

"The game's afoot: Follow your spirit, and, upon this charge." Sam recited. "Cry 'God for Harry! England and Saint George!"

Nodding to himself he took his notepad from his bag along with a pen. Taking a deep breath he got out of the car and walked up the porch. Counting to three in his head he knocked on the door. A few moments passed and he was about to knock again when the door opened to reveal an aged old man still standing behind the screen door. There were more gray hair and wrinkles however he still looked a carbon copy from the picture. His clothes were stained and he stared at Sam in suspicion.

"Hi. Joseph Welch?" Sam asked. When the man nodded slowly Sam's smile expanded. "My names Tony and I'm from the high school back in town, I'm actually part of the school newspaper." he added sheepishly and holding the notepad and pen up as in explanation. "We're making a new paper for the beginning of the semester and I thought it might be a good idea to add an article that reminds us of our history."

"Constance." Joseph said gruffly. "You want to do a story on her. You think that's a good part of history, boy?"

Sam immediately shook his head, adopting the wide eyed innocent look he knew worked wonders on his teachers back home. "Oh no, sir! I just thought that it would a good idea not to forget, is all."

Joseph stared at Sam for a moment longer before he sighed and stepped out onto the porch. The screen door slammed shut behind him. He gave Sam a leveled look. "Something's are better left in the past, kid."

"The day we refuse to talk of the past, is when the past starts to die." Sam said, he softened his eyes and lowered them to the ground. "If you don't want to talk about, that's fine sir, I completely understand." He started to turn and go back to his car.

Joseph sighed and Sam fought a smile on his face at the sound. "What do you want to know?" he asked sounding defeated.

"I already know a bit from the newspaper article." Sam said turning back to face Joseph with his notepad open and pen at the ready. "But there are other things that confused me and I would like to know. Why did you move houses?"

"I wasn't gonna live in the house where my children died." Joseph said harshly. His voice softened as he looked at Sam. "They would have been a little older than you now."

Sam adopted what he hoped was a kind smile as he wrote down Josephs words. "Did you ever marry again?"

Joseph shook his head. "Constance was the love of my life, prettiest woman I ever knew. There was no one else I would have wanted to spend the rest of my life with."

"And you two were happily married?" Sam asked carefully as he jotted down notes.

Joseph suddenly looked uncomfortable, he noted, he shifted on his feet and fidgeted with his hands. "Of course we were." he almost snapped.

"One last thing, sir." Sam said ignoring Josephs pained groan. "If you don't mind, where is she buried now?"

Joseph suddenly looked at him suspiciously again. Sam adopted the innocent look one more time. Joseph stared into his face for a long moment before apparently not finding what he had wanted. The old man gave a sigh and looked all his years.

"In a plot." he said roughly. "Behind my old place over on Breckenridge."

Sam nodded as he wrote down those words carefully and circled them.

"Thank you for your time, sir." Sam said thankfully. "I apologize for interrupting you, have a nice day."

Joseph didn't say anything as he watched Sam walk down the porch, however when Sam was a few feet away Joseph called out "You better watch yourself boy!"

Sam froze but then relaxed and threw a smile over his shoulder before getting into the car and immediately driving away, Joseph in the rearview mirror the entire time until he was away.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, the old girl calming him like she always did, and glanced at his cell phone. His brother still hadn't called him.

If those late night movies had taught him anything Dean was being interrogated the entire time. He clicked his teeth together and thought, he had no idea what to do next when it came to ghosts. Dean mentioned something about salt, gas, and fire but he wasn't sure what the hell that meant. His eyes drifted to Dean's bag in the passenger seat. His brother's journal was still in there and probably contained information on how to get rid of ghosts. He started to reach for it however retracted his hand, this wasn't his alley and it certainly wasn't his job.

He needed Dean.

Sam was still thinking as he drove into a parking lot of a cafe and ordered a cup of coffee to steady his shaking hands. He thought for a moment about having lunch but decided his turning stomach still couldn't handle much food.

He thanked the waitress when she came back with the coffee and sipped from it as he thought. He walked to the other side of the café where a map of the town was hanging. He located Breckenridge and attempted to memorize the way there as he drank the coffee. He eyed a different part of the town, nearly the other side, called Whiteford Road and despite being a small town would take about twenty minutes to get there.

Small town, he thought to himself. Probably not that many cops.

If something happened, or they believed something happened, they would probably need all the help they could get.

He and Dean had already broken a lot of laws and rules today. One more wasn't going to hurt.

He quickly paid for the coffee, drained the cup, and walked out of the café and towards the impala.

"Well, I know one thing." he said out loud to himself as he backed the car out and back on the road. "If I ever get to Stanford, I'm not majoring in law."

He pulled his cell phone out and dialed 911.

* * *

Sam was breathing heavily by the time his cell phone rang he felt his insides calm down and his hands stopped shaking.

"Hello." he said into the phone, hoping that it was Dean.

"Fake 911 phone call?" his brother's familiar voice said teasingly. "Sammy boy, that's pretty illegal."

"Bite me." Sam answered already relaxing more with his brother's voice filling his ear, not really noticing where he was driving. "You're welcome."

Dean gave a laugh. "Did you do the homework I assigned you squirt?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yep. Talked to Joseph Welch, you made me lie to an old man Dean; not cool." He shifted his arm to balance his phone on his shoulder and placed both hands on the steering wheel again. "Constance is buried behind her old house in Breckenridge."

"Atta boy, knew I could count on you." Dean said proudly. Sam smiled as the warmth from his brother's words filled him. "Alright, come pick me up and we'll go together. Got my bag?"

"I have your diary." Sam confirmed ignored his brother's protests. "Also, I took a look into your trunk. Where the hell did you get those things?"

"Hunters privilege." Dean said. "Where are you?"

Sam glanced around the road surrounding him to see a sign. "Don't know, a few minutes out of town I guess."

"I'm in town in front of what I'm sure is the only movie theater here. Come get me." Dean said.

"There is a magical arrangement of words that will get me there faster, you know."

"Come get me bitch."

"Not those words." Sam said. As he turned the corner he almost screamed and pushed on the brakes. A familiar woman in a white dress was standing in the middle of the road. The car went through her and she disappeared as the brakes squealed and the car came to a stop.

"Sam?" Dean's voice from the phone that had dropped to his lap yelled out. "Sam!"

Breathing heavily he fumbled for the phone and brought it back to his ear before he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the woman sitting in the back seat.

"Take me home." Constance said softly, her voice echoing within itself.

Sam could still hear Dean yelling his name through the phone before the phone shut off on its own, or maybe she was doing that. He flexed his fingers over the steering wheel and breathed deeply to calm himself.

"Take me home!" Constance demanded.

"No." Sam said, somewhat proud his voice didn't waver.

Constance glared at him and suddenly the doors locked themselves. In a panic Sam tried to pull the lock out when abruptly the gas pedal was pushed down and the car began to drive. He grabbed at the steering wheel in an attempt to stop it however he let go when he realized that he couldn't control it. In the mirror he saw Constance flicker for a moment before reappeared as the car continued to drive on its own.

The impala picked up speed and continued onward as Sam tried to relax. His eyes went to the bag on the seat, there was something in there about ghosts. He knew it. He just had to get to it.

Looking upwards he saw they were rapidly approaching a rotten and falling apart house. Then the engines and lights of the car turned off leaving them in darkness and silence.

"Don't do this." Sam said softly.

Constance didn't appear to pay attention to him as she leaned forward slightly, her gaze on the house.

"I can never go home." she said sadly with a hint of another emotion underneath it.

Sam watched her for a moment before he turned to look at the house. The house where her children had died.

"You're scared to go home." he noted, finally realizing the other emotion in her voice. "Why?"

He turned his body to look into the back seat and realized that she had disappeared. He turned to face the house again and started when Constance was sitting on the edge of the passenger's seat. Before he could move she climbed onto his lap and shoved him back against his own seat.

"Hold me." Constance said as Sam struggled to get free. "I'm so cold."

"Not my problem." he snarled as he tried to reach around her to the door to get free.

He froze when her lips slid over his before his eyes widened in alarm and he turned his head to the side to avoid the kiss. She pulled back and her face darkened for a moment before she disappeared. He had a moment of peace before piercing pain shot through his chest. Glancing down he saw five holes in his shirt and Constance fading back into existence with her hand reaching through his chest.

Pain and fearing coursed through Sam at that moment as he tried to grab her arm, he gave a scream when she twisted her hand inside of him.

Suddenly all the pain and fear melted away, to be replaced by anger and hatred. He bared his teeth at her and narrowed his eyes. Who the hell did this ghost, this dead bitch, think she was? What the hell had Sam done to deserve to be killed?

With a roar that he almost didn't recognize his hand came up and grabbed her by the throat. He felt something course through him, through his arm, and towards his hand where it was wrapped around her neck. Adrenaline shot through him and he pulled her off of him and onto the dashboard. She gave a small yet terrified scream as his other hand came up and grabbed the hand that was embedded in his chest and pulled it out.

For a moment the world darkened around them and Sam could swear there was a man whispering in his ear.

A gunshot went off suddenly breaking Sam's concentration and shattering the window. Both Constance and Sam's attention went to the side where Dean was approaching them and shooting at her, a silver gun in his hand and a car with its still open door behind him. Constance glared at Dean before disappeared, but not before throwing Sam a scared look.

Adrenaline and clarity raced through Sam as he reached out and started the car once more. His mind was clear and he felt like his body was on fire that filled him.

"I'm taking you home." he snarled as he drove forward towards the house. Ignoring the broken and missing pieces of the house san drove through and smashed the side of the house before coming to a stop in what used to be the living room.

He coughed to himself and leaned back in his seat with a groan as he heard his brother calling his name in fear.

"Sam!" Dean called as he reached the side of the car and looked in fearfully. "You okay?"

"I think so." Sam said sliding out of his seat and closer to Dean who opened the door and helped his brother get out of the car.

Sam looked up with Dean helping support him as Constance picked up a large framed photograph and stared at it in despair. She looked up at them and glared as she threw the picture to the ground. Suddenly the bureau behind her slammed forward and pinned Sam and Dean to the car. The brothers groaned and tried to get free to no avail.

The lights started to flicker abruptly and Constance looked around in fear. Water started to pour down the staircase as Constance walked to the bottom of it, and even from their angle Sam and Dean were able to make out the shape of two children at the top of the staircase. They entwined their hands and spoke together,

"You've come home to us, mommy." in the same echoed tone that Constance had.

She stumbled back in fear only to realize that the children were behind her. Before she could move both of them embraced her tightly causing her to erupt in blue flames, her blood curling screams echoing through the empty and broken house. A surge of energy rippled through the room as Constance and her children melted into a puddle onto the floor.

The bureau fell back to the ground and the brothers easily pushed it away. They walked to the puddle and stared at it.

"Her kids didn't die suddenly in the bathtub." Dean said. "She killed them. She drowned them."

"That's why she said 'I can never go home'." Sam said turning away from the puddle and going back to the car, feeling each and every bruised and tired bit of his body. "She was too scared to face them."

"You managed to find her weak spot." Dean said grinning proudly as he clapped his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Nice work, Sammy."

Sam didn't notice Deans smile disappear as he looked over his slightly limping brother, regret clouded his eyes however they cleared as Sam looked back at him.

"Quick question, what the hell were you thinking shooting a ghost in the face?" Sam asked. "Dumbass."

"Saved your ass." Dean said walking to his car and looking at it. "By the way." He glanced up at his brother. "If you screwed up my car, I'll kill you."

* * *

Sam couldn't help the excited little bursts of the air that passed through his lips. He bounced on his seat in the impala as Dean drove down the highway and threw him amused looks every now and then. Music filled the empty spaces of the car, a song that dimly reminded him of a rock concert he had seen on TV once.

"You alright, little brother?" Dean asked turning the music down.

Sam nodded as he settled into his seat with a sigh. "We just got rid of a ghost." he said.

"Technically you drove her home, her kids did the rest." Dean said, however he was smiling. "But yeah, I get what you mean. Felt this way after my first official hunt too."

"What was your first hunt?" Sam said turning his body to face his brother.

"Something similar to this actually." Dean said. "The Harvelles didn't want me to do anything too dangerous for my first adventure. Ghost killing people, salt and burn, and done."

"What does that mean, salt and burn?" Sam finally asked.

"The way to get rid of a ghost is to destroy whatever is anchoring it to the land of the living." Dean reminded his brother. "Most the times its going to be their body. You cover it in salt to purify the bones, gas it up to make it flammable, and light the sucker up."

"What else?" Sam asked eagerly, smiling slightly. "What else is there?"

Dean threw him a teasing look now. "Where did this sudden interest in my job come from?" he teased.

Sam smiled widely back at his brother. "Dean. What you do, it's amazing." he said simply. He leaned back into his seat once more. "Now I don't know about you but I'm tired, bruised, and covered in dirt and would very much like to take a shower."

"Memo received." Dean said glancing his brother up and down. "Keep your eyes peeled out for a new motel."

* * *

After they managed to find a motel the first thing Sam did was immediately go take a shower. Dean slipped out and by the time Sam was exiting the bathroom his brother had returned with a meal from the closest fast food place.

Under Deans insistence Sam showed him the five marks that remained from Constance's hand that were still on his chest.

"My guess is that she tried to stop your heart." Dean said after giving the okay. Sam was examining the marks in the mirror and was lightly touching them. "Thankfully, she didn't succeed."

Sam thought back to that moment in the car. He hesitated for a second before he said, "The reason she wasn't able to…I think I stopped her."

Dean had been reaching into the bag at his feet and pulling out his journal, he glanced up at his brother. "What?"

Sam tapped the bruises one more time before he slid his shirt back on and fell onto the bed. He stared up at the ceiling before he carefully said "I don't really remember but…I think I stopped her, somehow."

"Stopped her how? Stopped her what?" Dean asked.

His younger brother shook his head. "I don't know. She's killing me and the next thing I knew I grabbed her by the throat and pulled her off."

Dean stared at Sam thoughtfully as he placed his journal on the table and opened it to the last page he had written on. "What exactly happened at that moment? What did you feel?"

"I don't know." Sam said truthfully. "All I knew was that I was scared shitless about that I was going to die and suddenly…I was angry." he said as he remembered. "I was angry and I hated her so much at that moment that I just grabbed her and pulled her away."

"Adrenaline." Dean finally said after a few moments of silence. "You thought you were going to die and your body kicked in, we're not built to just accept death."

Sam thought to himself before he brought himself up to sit on the bed and watch his brother start to write in his journal.

"Why do you hunt alone?" Sam asked watching his brother.

"No one to hunt with." Dean answered shrugging, as he continued writing in his journal. "Bill always told me, it's better to go alone than without someone you don't completely trust. When you hunt with someone you're putting your life in their hands."

Sam nodded as he contemplated his next words. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes of course I do, why?" Dean said looking up. His eyes widened as he realized what Sam had said. "I mean, I don't!" he said quickly, averting his eyes when he saw Sam's pained look. "I trust you but not that much. I mean…" he stumbled for words before he sighed and slumped in his chair. He looked at his brother with tired eyes. "Sammy. No."

"Why not?" Sam asked getting off the bed. "You said so yourself, we made a hell of a team back there. Despite me not knowing anything about this crap. And besides," he said with a grin. "Who better to teach me than my older brother who taught me practically everything else I know?"

"Sam." Dean said. "This life is dangerous and threatening. Most the time a hunter can die from a hunt, no matter how much experience they've got."

"I trust you." Sam said. "And I know you trust me. Please Dean. I've…I've never felt more alive."

Dean stared at Sam for a moment. "What?"

Sam bit his lip as he averted his gaze. "At that moment at the house, with Constance nearly killing us. I never felt more alive." He looked up at his brother almost ashamed. "It was like I spent the last eighteen years of my life in a daze or asleep and these past two days…yes I've been more scared and not knowing anything than I ever have in my life, but I also never felt more…at ease." he finally said. "My heart was racing and my body was shaking. I want this. I want…"

He gave a pained groan and looked up at his brother. "I want us to be brother's again." he said softly. "I know that if I go to Stanford now and you'll continue hunting we'll never get back what we lost. We've lost four years because of your secret Dean, and I don't want to lose another second of it." He cleared his throat and continued. "I don't care about school, I was only going because it was expected and I didn't know what else to do with my life. I know what I want to do Dean. I want to hunt." He looked up and locked gazes with his brother. "And I want to hunt with my brother."

"And if something happened to you?" Dean snapped. He stood and walked to his brother. "Sam, you almost died today." His eyes went to the bruises that were just peeking over Sam's shirt collar. Dean closed his eyes and quickly pulled his brother into a tight hug. "If you got hurt, god forbid if you were killed, on a hunt or because of me." his voice fell to a broken whisper. "I will never be able to forgive myself."

Sam's arms came up to grasp at his brother tightly. "Then teach me how to kill these things before they get to either of us." he said softly. "Dean." he brought his head back to look his brother in the eyes. "I want to be with you again, four years is too long man."

Dean looked almost helpless as he looked at Sam who stared back with determined eyes.

"You're throwing a chance at a normal and safe life, for hunting creatures that only a handful of people believe in and that kill you with the barest of strength." Dean said.

"I'm throwing away a chance at a boring life that accomplishes nothing to help people with my brother." Sam countered. He spread his hands apart. "I honestly can't think of anything better."

Dean bit his lip at he stared at Sam contemplating. "You listen to me and do just as I tell you." he said suddenly. "You train when I tell you to train, you memorize what I tell you to memorize. You do as I say."

Sam nodded eagerly. "Of course."

His brother narrowed his eyes as he stepped closer to Sam until their faces were only centimeters apart and Sam could easily feel the warmth from Dean's skin on his own.

"When I tell you to shoot, you shoot." he said. "I tell you to run, you run. I tell you to leave me there, you leave me the fuck there. Got it?"

Sam's eyes widened at the last sentence however he nodded eagerly once more. "Whatever you say."

Dean leaned back breathing heavily as he stared at his brother, an unreadable look in his eyes.

"Get some sleep." he said gruffly motioning with his head towards Sam's bed. "We have a big day tomorrow."

Sam's felt a wide grin on his face as he quickly moved forward and hugged his brother tightly. "Thank you Dean." he sighed happily. "You're not going to regret this."

Dean curled his own arms around Sam tighter. He pressed his cheek into Sam's shoulder. "God, I hope not." he murmured.

* * *

Dean glanced at Sam who was snoring on his bed practically dead to the world. He couldn't help the fond smile that appeared on his face for a moment before it fell. He walked to the side of his brother's bed and kneeled beside him, simply studying him before he reached out and stroked his hair.

Straightening up Dean walked back to the table where his journal was and picked it up. Biting his lip he cast one more glance at his brother, as if to reassure himself that Sam was going to wake up, before he opened his journal to the back of it.

Under the back cover flap he pulled out a piece of folded paper. Casting one more look at Sam he opened it and stared at the real and helpless reason that he had come back for his brother. Underlined and question marks filled the page with his cluttered and confused handwriting.

His lips parted as he read the words he had written nearly months ago, and was no closer to understanding what they meant.

_**Azazel…yellow eyed demon?**_

_**Special children**_

_**Boy King?**_

_**Why him?**_

_**Sam**_

**I do not own Supernatural.**


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